


Unexpected Storm

by culaccino



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson, Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson (Broadway Cast) RPF
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Connor and Evan have been dating for 4 years, Depression, Domestic, Established Relationship, I’m not sure but they’re more aged up and mature, M/M, OOC?, Panic Attacks, Relapse, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-05-27 04:36:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15016811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/culaccino/pseuds/culaccino
Summary: -Another Connor Lives™️ AU here!-Connor and Evan have been dating for five years now, and Connor is happy. He’s living with his boyfriend, he has a great job that he genuinely likes, and his relationship with his family is actually pretty okay. He’s properly medicated, he sees a therapist once every two weeks, he’s better. Right?One morning Connor wakes up to one of the worst days he’s had in years, but he can’t tell Evan about it. However, now he has to deal with the aftermath of this unexpected storm.





	1. Chapter One

Connor shuffled into the kitchen of the small yet cozy apartment he shared with his boyfriend to see him sitting there sipping breakfast tea from a brightly colored ceramic mug. They’d found a set of them at a thrift shop four years ago when they first moved in together after a year of dating- Evan just couldn’t not buy them.

“Good morning,” Evan’s voice was the first clear thing to get to his head since he woke up. His brain felt fuzzy. Like when your foot falls asleep but you have to get up and try to walk on it normally, or when you try to watch the news during a bad thunderstorm and it keeps cutting out so you can’t hear the important parts. 

“Hey,” Connor replied, grabbing one of the environmentally friendly Keurig cups and filling it with ground coffee, watching as the machine dripped coffee into his mug. He could tell Evan was looking at him. Which, Connor knew he wasn’t acting as he normally would, so he wasn’t surprised.

“You went to bed really late?” It wasn’t a question, Evan just always raised the tone on the end of his sentences so it seemed like it. “I- uh, I woke up in the middle of the night and you weren’t there,” he explained.

“Oh.” 

Connor was focused on watching the coffee finish dripping into his mug. He thought about how he wanted to handle the statement. It was a bad day in the works, since last night he hadn’t slept more than two hours. 

“I...um, I started reading a book, and I lost track of time,” Connor lied quietly. “It’s okay, I’m fine I just need to drink this,” he assured, gesturing to his mug as he picked it up, not totally sure it was reassurance for himself or Evan.

It wasn’t doing a good job on his part.

“I think I actually might stay home from work today. Get some rest and stuff,” he said quietly after Evan didn’t say anything in response as he sat across the table from him.

Evan nodded, watching him. Connor felt super self conscious all of a sudden, like all of the problems swimming in his head were written on his forehead.

“Are you okay, Connor?” Evan asked, his eyes telling Connor he was worried. And Connor felt guilty, because why should Evan care about him that much? Why should anyone?

You’re just a problem for someone to deal with. You’re ruining his life.

Connor’s thoughts weren’t exactly the nicest to him that morning. Or for the past few days. “I...I don’t know,” he said honestly, the first true thing to leave his lips when asked that question in days. “I don’t know if it’s just because I haven’t been sleeping well, or maybe it’s my meds again but...I don’t know. I feel worse lately,” he said as he focused on a small indent in their wooden table. 

Evan’s brows furrowed further in concern as Connor spoke. “How long has it been like this?” He asked.

“A few days. Maybe a week.”

“Connor,” Evan started. “You’re supposed to tell me the second these things start happening. You know I’m here for you- I want to help, we can get you help. You don’t have to deal with it alone anymore,” he said before reaching across the table and taking one of Connor’s cold, bony hands in his soft warm ones. “You’ve helped me all these years,” he pointed out.

Connor shrugged. “I didn’t help you that much. Sometimes I just made it worse,” he sighed, refusing to look up at Evan again. 

“Stop,” Evan said, sort of halting Connor’s negative thoughts. “I’ve made things worse with you a lot in the beginning,” which was true. He’d never know what to say or how to calm Connor down- it was almost always a disaster.

“I’ll schedule a doctor’s appointment for tomorrow,” Evan said, and Connor froze, looking up,

“No. No doctors. Please,” Connor pleaded. The last time they’d gone through this was a couple years ago, where Connor had to change medications, and subsequently had to stay in the hospital for a few days while they made sure he was stable. It had been the most anxiety inducing time of his life. “Please. I can’t do that again.”

Evan looked at him, concern in his eyes. “Connor…” he said softly. “I know it’ll be hard but I also know you can do it. We don’t even know if the meds are the problem. And I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

Connor wanted to cry right then and there. He felt terrible. Evan was giving up everything to help him. Connor didn’t think he deserved that. At all. His eyes began to well up with tears and he looked down again.

“I’m scared.”

Evan stood up, letting go of Connor’s hand to go around to where he was sitting. He pulled him into a tight hug, kissing his cheek gently. “It’ll be okay. I know it’s scary, but you won’t be alone. Whenever you need me, I’ll be there,” he promised. 

Connor nodded, leaning into the hug. It felt nice, comforting, undeserved. But he wouldn’t let Evan know that. 

“You don’t need to miss work today,” Connor said after a minute or so of just sitting there with Evan’s arms around him. “I’ll be okay, I just feel a little off, it’s nothing serious,” Though, if he was being honest, his thoughts were worse than they’d been in years. He just didn’t want Evan to worry about him anymore than he already was. 

Evan ran a hand through Connor’s hair, his fingers gently untangling the brown locks just a bit. “Are you sure? I don’t think the lab will have a problem with it,” he said. He worked as an environmental scientist, which had been his dream job. Connor still remembered how happy he looked when he got the job offer out of college.

On the other hand, Connor was working as an architect. He was good at what he did, but he knew that the only reason he’d even started out in the job was because of his dad. After college, one of Larry’s clients mentioned needing one for a project, and Connor was genuinely thankful for that job because it had led to others.

Connor usually spent almost all of his time at the office, occasionally going out and seeing how his projects were doing, but he didn’t mind it.

“I’ll be fine, Ev,” Connor said with a tone he hoped was reassuring. “I’ll call in and say I’m sick and won’t be in for a few days. I don’t want you missing work,” he said. 

Evan was hesitant, but he agreed. “Okay,” he said, his arms getting tighter around Connor. “Call me if you start to feel worse, even if it’s just a little worse I want you to call me, okay? I know I worry probably too much but I can’t let anything happen to you,” he said softly. “I love you more than anything.”

“I love you too, Ev,” Connor replied, smiling just a little. “I’ll let you know if anything happens, I promise.”

Once Evan was a little more satisfied with the response and more certain that Connor would be fine, Evan went upstairs to get ready for work. Connor left his coffee untouched, deciding he couldn’t drink it. He wasn’t sure why, but it just repulsed him all of a sudden. He got up from the table and went over to their couch, laying down on it, and he must have zoned out because he didn’t even realize it was a half hour later and Evan was coming into the room.

This was normal for Connor, Evan knew, especially when it came to his more bad days. He went to the kitchen and got Connor’s meds for him, bringing them to the couch with some water. “Even if they’re not working, you still need to take your meds,” he said. “Can you sit up?”

Connor sat up with more effort than he thought it would take and took the medicine from Evan, swallowing it with a sip of the water. “Thanks,” He said, leaning his head back against the couch as he looked at Evan. 

“I have to leave, but I meant it about calling me. Or text if you don’t want to call, okay?” Evan asked again. “I also put out a can of soup on the counter for you because I know sometimes you forget to eat,” he said.

God, Connor didn’t deserve him. He didn’t deserve this kindness or the amount of attention Evan had paid to know exactly what he needed sometimes. He just curled up on himself more, appreciating the blanket Evan laid over him before kissing his forehead. 

“I love you, Connor,” Evan said, brushing his hair back a bit. “We’ll get through this.”

“I love you too,” Connor replied, and in all honesty wasn’t sure things would get better, but he didn’t mention that.

All too soon, Evan was out the door, leaving Connor to his solitude in an apartment that seemed way too empty all of a sudden


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor is left home alone with way more than he can handle, and ends up not actually being able to handle it at all.

After Evan had left Connor alone in their apartment, Connor began to deflate. He broke down crying, not knowing what to do as he brought his knees to his chest, struggling to breathe. This is what he didn’t want Evan seeing- his form trembling as sobs wracked his body because he was worse and he didn’t know how to fix it.

After almost a half an hour of straight sobbing, Connor couldn’t anymore, coughing at the sheer force of his tears. He sat up on the couch and his brain felt like it did a somersault inside his head. 

With much more difficulty than he originally thought it would take, Connor stood, the soft blanket Evan had draped over him wrapped around his shoulders. He felt weak.

The thought of coffee still made his stomach churn, so he decided against that. He instead went to the medicine cabinet and took out the bottle of painkillers, mindlessly shaking two into his hand without a second thought.

He took them back to the living room and swallowed them dry, collapsing on the couch again and thoughts he didn’t want or need began to flood his mind.

Evan’s only staying with you out of pity. You don’t make him happy. How many times now have you been the cause for his anxiety and panic attacks? Too many times.

It’s not like your parents care either. When was the last time they looked as happy to see you as they did Zoe? Never.

They only ever want me around when I bring Evan, because maybe I’ll be more tolerable with him around.

Evan.

He’s probably stressing out right now. Worrying if I’m okay. Maybe he’s worrying about how much the hospital stay is going to cost if I have to change meds. Because I’m just a nuisance to him. What would even-

Connor’s phone rang then, promptly cutting him off. It was work, he realized when he saw the time. He’d forgotten to call in. He picked up the phone and held it to his ear. 

“Hello?” He asked before clearing his throat. God, he even sounded weak.

“Mr. Murphy, hello, it’s Ella,” Ella was the receptionist at his firm. Very sweet and an insanely good receptionist, which seemed like an easy job but one would be very surprised when working with a horrible receptionist. “I’m guessing by the sound of your voice you’re sick and not coming in today?”

Great. So it wasn’t just him who thought he was weak. “I, uh, yeah. Sorry I didn’t call, I was asleep. I’ll probably be out until Monday if you could tell everyone?” He asked.

“Of course,” Ella replied. “There’s one meeting you were supposed to have with the chairman of the board for Poll Inc., but I can reschedule it for next Wednesday if that works better?”

“Yeah sure that’ll be fine,” Connor replied, honestly just wanting to get off the phone.

Ella must have sensed this, because it didn’t take long for her to get off the phone, parting with a “Feel better, Mr. Murphy!”

Connor curled back up on the couch, wanting all of the pain to just go away. His head was pounding and he felt like he was spiraling down and couldn’t grab onto anything to hold onto.

He knew this was the start of a panic attack. Shortly after, he was gasping for breath, feeling like he couldn’t get enough oxygen in.

But maybe that wasn’t a bad thing.

If he passed out, he wouldn’t have to deal with the pain anymore, right? At least, that’s how he handled it in high school. He still had the marks littering his forearms as a reminder of that.

Because the pain was just a distraction from everything going on inside his head, and once he passed out from the intensity of it, he didn’t have to deal with it again l until he woke up again. That sounded really appealing right now.

But he was four and a half years clean.

But there was a razor blade in the cabinet.

He pondered over this for what felt like hours, but in reality it was closer to 25 minutes. Connor knew Evan would be completely disgusted with him. Maybe to the point where he’d leave.

Would that be such a bad thing though? Connor knew he wasn’t worth the amount of love Evan gave him. His mind was made up, and so he went to the bathroom and shut the door out of habit from high school. 

Connor took out a brand new razor with shaking hands, removing one of the blades with practiced skill, setting the razor on the counter as he stared at the metallic edge between his fingertips. 

He looked down at his right forearm. The scars there were a faded white. It had been so long ago that he’d done anything. This was the first time in a long time that Connor had seriously contemplated self harming again.

Sure, sometimes it crossed his mind in fleeting thoughts, but he never acted on it. Evan was usually around so he usually dispelled the thoughts as quickly as he could.

Maybe he should call Evan. Maybe that would help. Or maybe it wouldn’t. Because he was still here, alone, with a goddamn razor in his hand. 

Connor held his breath as he pressed the sharp edge to the skin of his forearm, feeling almost guilty about the fact that the harder he pressed, the better it felt. He kept pressing the blade down harder and harder before he saw the first drops of blood.

He almost smiled. It was like an alcoholic taking a drink after they’ve been 10 years sober. One never forgets the feeling, but remembering it is so much different than feeling it all over again. He felt guilty about how nice it felt because no, he shouldn’t want this. He shouldn’t be doing this.

But he couldn’t stop.

Connor kept pressing the blade into his skin, relishing in the sharp sting every time he dragged it across.

He couldn’t stop.

He’d moved on to his left arm after he could barely feel his right one anymore, and that almost felt even better. Blood had dripped onto the marble floor of the bathroom, and Connor had to sit down on the toilet seat, beginning to feel woozy. Yet he still didn’t stop.

All of a sudden, he realized he had cut too much. He’d cut too deep. He had to make the bleeding stop. He grabbed the towel laying on the counter from Evan’s shower. It was still slightly damp. And smelled like his shampoo. Not that Connor could really focus on that because he could only think about how he had to get the bleeding to stop.

His blood was staining the cream colored towel with no signs of stopping. He was dizzy, he’d cut too much, he’d cut too deep. He didn’t want this.

After a couple minutes keeping his arms pressed to the towel, Connor decided he needed help. He had to call Evan.

He fumbled for his phone in the pocket of his sweatpants and quickly found Evan’s contact, pressing the call button. There was blood on his phone screen.

Evan picked up immediately. “Connor? Is everything okay?” He asked, knowing Connor wouldn’t have called if there hadn’t been a problem.

“I-I don’t know what to do, it won’t stop,” Connor forced the words out, becoming more dizzy by the second. “I fucked up, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he continued to ramble out apologies, saying he messed up.

“Connor, hey, slow down, it’s okay,” Evan said. “What’s happening, what won’t stop?” 

“The blood, it’s not stopping, I screwed up,” Connor didn’t even realize he was crying but tears were pouring down his face. “I...I didn’t mean to go that far,” he sobbed out. His head was spinning, he couldn’t breathe. He sat down on the cool tile floor as Evan spoke again, trying to gain some control.

“Connor, listen to me, it’s going to be okay,” Evan said, though his voice was shaking. He was terrified. “I’m going to hang up and call 911, then I’m going to call you right back, okay?” 

Connor felt like he was going to faint at any moment here. His vision was cloudy, white spots around the edges. “Okay,” He said weakly, only barely hearing the ‘I love you’ that came from Evan before he hung up the phone.

It took too long. Connor tried to hold on, waiting for Evan to call him back. More thoughts flooded his mind.

Maybe Evan won’t call you back. He’s leaving you so you can die, then he’ll be free.

He won’t need to deal with you anymore. He can be happy.

Just as Connor felt himself slipping, he heard his phone ring, but he was under before he could even think about answering it.


	3. Chapter 3

One of Evan’s worst fears was losing the love of his life. It wasn’t uncommon for him to have nightmares about having never met Connor, or not being there that first day of high school. Or not demanding Connor give him his letter back and let him _explain_ that it was never anything weird and yes he’d had a crush on Zoe but no the letter actually meant that she’d been nice and that’s all he was banking on for good things of the day.

Even in his thoughts he rambled.

Connor always said it was cute. But he’d always stopped his ramblings if it was something bad. Like sometimes Evan would ramble about how he didn’t think he was enough for Connor, who in turn was quick to dispel those thoughts and reassure him it would be okay.

Evan wasn’t completely sure they’d be okay right now. He couldn’t get the past 20 minutes out of his head as he made his way to the hospital.

_“The blood, it’s not stopping.”_

Evan didn’t know exactly what that meant, but he had his guesses. Maybe Connor had accidentally cut himself on the can of soup he’d left out for him. Maybe he was cutting up the carrots they’d bought last week.

_“I didn’t mean to go that far.”_

Evan knew just by that statement that Connor had meant to do something. Maybe it was a relapse in self harm. But there hadn’t been one of those in years. And Connor always told him if he felt like he needed to, or if his arms started to itch with desire for it.

But Connor hadn’t mentioned any of that to Evan this morning. Evan knew he had to stop talking about this lest he want to have a panic attack while driving and have to pull over, which would only further keep him from seeing Connor.

So, he did some breathing exercises, focusing on the road, and not soon enough he’d parked in the hospital parking lot. He practically sprinted into the building and to the front desk.

“I-um, Connor Murphy. He’s, I called an ambulance, I need to see him,” Evan said, taking a deep breath and starting over. “Sorry, I’m, uh, I’m kind of panicking,” he looked down sheepishly. 

“It’s not a problem, sir. Mr. Murphy was just checked in a couple minutes ago,” The nurse said, smiling at him. Her name tag stated her name was Natasha. She was sweet. Maybe if he wasn’t panicking and Connor wasn’t just checked into a hospital he’d tell her.

“Is he like...okay?” Evan asked nervously. “I don’t know if you were told or anything when he was brought in, sorry,” he furrowed his brows, looking at the edge of the counter.

“I can check on his condition for you while you fill these out,” Natasha said, handing him a clipboard with some forms. “What is your relationship to Mr. Murphy?”

“We’ve been together for five years,” Evan said, taking the clipboard. That statement coming out of his mouth made him think about how if Connor never got better, they’d never even get the chance to get married. They hadn’t talked about it, they were in no rush.

“Have a seat, please,” Natasha smiled warmly, gesturing to the chairs there. Evan went and sat down, beginning to fill out the information. Thank god he and Connor were on the same insurance plan, because there was no way in hell he could handle a phone call to Cynthia to ask for that.

Because then he’d have to tell her that Connor was in the hospital and that he didn’t exactly know why or how or what happened but all he did know is that if he hadn’t left the apartment that morning they probably wouldn’t be in this situation.

There it was. Evan couldn’t stop feeling like this was his fault. Connor had told him he’d been having bad thoughts, and what had Evan done? Left for work. Left the love of his life alone to deal with things in his head that he obviously couldn’t handle.

_Okay, Evan, just make it through this form. You can’t see him until you finish these forms._

_Alright, allergies. No, Connor doesn’t have allergies. Medications. Yes, Connor is taking 40 mg of Zoloft every day in the morning. Since when? Since his medications were last changed three years ago. I think in May?_

It took him about 10 minutes to finish filling out the forms, and when he brought them back up to Natasha, he must have looked very nervous, because she smiled at him again. It was a reassuring one, like the one Connor gave him when Evan worried that he didn’t love him anymore.

“I called in for an update, and he’s in a stable condition. He did lose a lot of blood though, so he’s in surgery. But he’ll be okay,” Natasha said as she typed in the information Evan had filled out into the computer. “He also has a healthy amount of stitches in both arms that the doctor will talk to you about for when he’s able to be released- I’m assuming you’ll be his primary caretaker during the rest period?”

Evan nodded his head, processing all of the information he’d just been given. So Connor _had_ self harmed again. Which made him scared to go back home. He didn’t know what was there waiting for him. “Yes, I’ll be with him then. Um, do you know when I’ll be able to see him?”

“It’ll be a couple of hours. Once they transfer patients from surgery to the ICU, we have a refractory period to make sure the patients are actually stable in the new environment,” Natasha explained, and Evan nodded again.

At least that meant he had time to go home and pack a bag of things to make Connor just a bit more comfortable, knowing how much stress just being in the hospital would give him. 

“So if I come back in a bit, that’s okay? I need to get some things together..” And clean up whatever Connor had left behind.

“Of course. I’ll check you in once he’s allowed visitors,” Natasha said, smiling at him again. She was doing wonders to help Evan and she didn’t even know it.

“Thank you. Really, thank you,” Evan attempted to offer a smile back, but he knew it looked forced. The ride home was terrible. He couldn’t stop shaking and had to take a few breaths before getting out of the car after he’d parked. He got to the apartment door and pulled out his key- the EMT’s hadn’t broken in. Maybe they’d called the landlord? He didn’t know the process. He walked inside and everything looked normal.

Connor’s blanket was still on the couch. The unopened can of soup was still on the counter. It was way too quiet. Evan knew where everything was probably was, he just...didn’t want to go there yet.

But eventually he made his way up the stairs and to the bathroom. The door was closed. He opened it hesitantly, his stomach turning when he saw the blood covered towels in the bathtub and smelled the bleach. Someone had cleaned the floor for him. At least that was nice. The towels were in the bathtub though. Stained red.

When they were at Target buying towels, Connor had asked to buy black towels because “why do you want white towels then you can tell when they’re dirty” and Evan was pretty sure he’d go buy black towels now. With labored breathing, he took the towels and brought them to the garbage bin in their garage. He went back upstairs to the bathroom to face the other piece of things.

The razor. 

Connor had only had to break the razor in two before he could get the blade out. He’d done it before, obviously. The blade he’d used Evan was guessing had been taken by an EMT, because he couldn’t find it, but the rest of them were there.

He threw that out, cleaning up everything else to make it look normal. All the while he thought about how while Connor stayed in the hospital, Evan would have to lock up everything that had potential to be used by Connor again.

That meant medicines, knives, scissors...Evan would have to help him shave. Or watch. The thinking became too much for him and he broke down again, but this time called his mom. He prayed she was available but just got the answering machine.

“Mom? Something happened w-with Connor,” he choked out. “Don’t tell Cynthia o-or anyone j-just...please call me back when you g-get this. He hurt himself again...b-badly. He’s going to b-be in the hospital for a few days and it’s my fault, I wasn’t here for him,” he started crying into the phone. “I’m sorry,” he took a breath. “God, okay, sorry. Just call me back please. I love you.” 

It was about 40 minutes later that Heidi called Evan back, getting the message as soon as she went on her lunch break.

“Hey, mom,” Evan said as he picked up the phone, significantly calmed down, which had been only with the help of his medication he used during panic attacks to calm down. He was in the middle of packing things into a small duffel bag that he felt Connor might want or need there.

“Are you at the hospital with Connor?” Heidi asked after greeting Evan back. “I don’t want to be interrupting.”

“No, I’m at home,” Evan sighed, sitting at the edge of the bed. “The lady at the front desk said it wouldn’t be for awhile until I could see him. He was in surgery when I was there..” he choked up a little as he spoke, just imagining Connor there, alone as doctors ran around. It probably wasn’t a very realistic image, but he had nothing to go on.

“He’ll be alright, sweetie. He’ll make it through, and soon you’ll be over that hill in your life. You both will,” She said. “Do you need me to drive down?”

Evan hesitated before answering. He wanted somebody there to help, but at the same time, it was an hour drive from his childhood home, and Heidi was in the middle of a workday. “No, I’ll be okay. I’m just going to visit Connor when I can...stay as long as I can. Can you stay the night at a hospital?”

“Yes, one adult can stay in the room overnight, but you have to remember to take care of yourself too, Evan,” She said firmly.

“I’ve already thought about it, and forcing myself to come back here and be here alone while he’s _there_ wouldn’t do anything good for me at all. I have to be with him.” Evan said. He wished he wasn’t so dependent, wished he’d be able to spend the night away because he _knew_ Connor was okay, but he had to be there.

He talked with his mom a little more until her break ended, and he reminded her to eat during the rest of the conversation. And honestly, just speaking with Heidi calmed Evan down more than he thought it would. It was nice.

Once he finished packing the duffel bag for Connor, Evan locked up the apartment and set off once more to the hospital.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan arrives at the hospital, Connor is on a lot of drugs. They talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! So sorry I haven’t been updating! Work has been a bitch but I’ll get chapters out when I can :)

Connor had just been moved into his room when Evan checked in, which meant he had to sit in the waiting room again for a decent amount of time. When it was okay, Natasha called him up and gave him a little visitor’s tag to clip onto his shirt. 

Evan was nervous about seeing Connor. Well, nervous was an understatement. He didn’t not want to see his boyfriend, but he also didn’t want to confront the fact that things were a lot worse than he originally thought, and maybe Connor wasn’t better. And then he’d have to think about Connor never getting better. Because what if that happened? 

He took the elevator up to the third floor where Connor’s room was. 307. Seven was Connor’s least favorite number out of spite because everyone claimed it to be lucky. Evan always used to think it was silly, but not so much anymore. 

He entered the room quietly, which was a good thing because Connor was asleep. He looked small lying there. Evan’s eyes lingered on his face. He looked peaceful, breathing evenly. His hair was a bit messed up and falling in his face, so Evan subconsciously reached over to brush it out.

Connor stirred a little before opening his eyes at the feeling of Evan’s fingertips, and Evan drew his hand back immediately. “Sorry, go back to sleep, you need it,” he said softly.

“Don’t want to,” Connor slurred a little, opening his eyes a bit more with his head back against the pillow. “I’m on a lot of drugs because I panicked though, so I might fall asleep,” he said.

Evan nodded, sitting down in the chair next to the bed. “I’ll be here when you wake up again,” he said, and when Connor reached out his hand Evan took it in his own.

It was then that he noticed the thick bandages wrapped around his entire forearm. And probably on his other one too. “I’m sorry I didn’t stay home with you today,” he said quietly.

“‘S not your fault. I didn’t tell you anything was wrong, you didn’t know,” Connor said, his eyes beginning to droop a little. 

“Let’s not have this conversation now, okay?” Evan suggested, not wanting to keep Connor awake when he could clearly use the rest. 

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Connor said. “These drugs are making it hard to think about anything, even if I’m trying.”

“What are you trying to think about?” Evan asked, curious.

“How somebody else’s blood is in me and I don’t know whose.” Connor deadpanned, furrowing his brows a little, and Evan couldn’t help but laugh out of how strange the thought was.

“You need to sleep some more,” Evan said. “I’ll stay right here until you wake up again, okay?”

Connor hummed. “Have I ever told you that I love you?”

“In the span of five years since we started dating, yes, you’ve told me once or twice,” Evan said, smiling a little. It was easing his worries that Connor wasn’t in pain, or seriously injured, and he could physically see that he was okay.

“Good, because I love you a lot,” Connor said, letting out a sigh as his eyes closed on their own accord. 

“I love you too,” Evan said softly, brushing his thumb against the back of Connor’s hand. “I promise I’ll be here when you wake up again.”

Connor was asleep in seconds, the heavy drugs pulling him under. And Evan stayed with him, holding his hand, not even noticing as hours passed.

The doctor had come in once, checking on Connor and asking Evan if he could press the call button when he woke up again. He explained to Evan that this would be considered a suicide attempt, and that Connor would have mandatory therapy during his stay.

Thankfully, the therapy could be with his current therapist Dr. Martin. Connor trusted her a lot, as he’d been working with her since they moved into the apartment together. 

It wasn’t until later that evening that Connor woke up again, seeming a lot more coherent than before. Evan squeezed his hand gently when he saw Connor’s eyes fully open.

Connor glanced to their hands first before his eyes flickered up to Evan’s. It felt like there was a stone in his stomach, heavy and weighing him down. 

“I hoped that was all a dream,” he said quietly, looking down at the bandages covering his arms. “I’m sorry.”

Evan shook his head. “Don’t be sorry, I left you home when you told me things weren’t great. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Connor just looked at him, because of course Evan would try to take the blame, even when there was no possible way it could be his fault. He almost wanted to argue. 

“My head hurts too much to fight with you right now,” Connor said with a sigh. “Let’s just not talk about it.”

Evan opened his mouth because Connor we have to talk about it you’re in the hospital but closed it again quickly. “Yeah, sure, we don’t need to talk about it yet. I..uh, how are you feeling?”

“I think I hit my head on something because it hurts a lot. Maybe it’s the drugs. Or the lights. I’m not sure,” Connor shrugged. He remembered the hospital lights from the last time he was in here. Bright and unforgiving. “And my arms are sore, but that’s…not a surprise.”

Evan furrowed his eyebrows in concern. “The doctor can probably give you some ibuprofen,” he said. “I’m supposed to call him anyways because he told me to when you woke up.”

“Or you could just...not,” Connor said. “We can pretend I’m just asleep still. I can live with my head and arms hurting.”

“No. I know you don’t like doctors or hospitals but you’re here and there’s nothing you can do to change that. There’s nothing either of us can do to change that,” Evan sighed. “Don’t be difficult please. You’re here to get better.”

Connor flinched a little at Evan’s more stern tone. In the past few years, especially when it concerned Connor, Evan had gained some backbone and spoke his mind a lot more than he used to. It was a huge step of progress that both of them were happy about, being that not too long ago even the thought of confronting a problem gave him extreme anxiety.

But Evan saw him flinch, and immediately felt guilty. What Connor needed right now was not this- he needed comfort, and someone to show him that he mattered, that someone cared. 

“I’m sorry,” Connor whispered, looking down. “I don’t...I’m not trying to be difficult.”

Evan squeezed Connor’s hand again, letting out a sigh. “No,” he said. “No, I know. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. You’re not being difficult, Con. But I do have to call the doctor in so he can check on you, okay?”

Connor just nodded, not wanting to say anything that might make Evan more upset with him. He felt way too off, like he was having an out of body experience. He didn’t feel like himself.

And Evan noticed it, but he couldn’t think of anything to do to fix it. So he wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, hugging him tightly. “It’ll be over in no time,” he reassured. “Tomorrow you have an appointment with Dr. Martin too, so you don’t need to go through everything she already knows about,” he said as he pulled back from the hug, opting to hold one of Connor’s hands.

That made Connor just a little less worried, because at least there would be some familiarity, and this time he didn’t have to go through everything from the past because Dr. Martin was well aware of it all, having been Connor’s therapist for years.

“Just call the doctor already, I want to get this over with,” Connor sighed, rubbing his eyes with the forefinger and thumb of his free hand.

“Oh- right, yeah,” Evan said, pressing the call button on the side table. “Do you want me to stay or…?” 

“Please don’t leave,” Connor said, looking down at their hands. He was scared that maybe if Evan left, he wouldn’t come back. He knew this was irrational thinking, because why would Evan show up to the hospital just to leave once Connor was awake? He wouldn’t. Unless he did.

Evan’s voice broke him out of his thoughts again. “I’ll stay then,” he said, offering Connor a smile, which was weakly returned. 

The door opened a few minutes later and the doctor came in, clipboard in hand. “I’m glad to see you’re awake,” she said, smiling almost too sweetly for Connor’s liking. “How are you feeling?”

“Oh, I’m doing great,” Connor responded dryly. He was fresh off a self harming episode serious enough to be deemed a suicide attempt. How did she expect him to be?

But, he was being difficult again, he realized, when he made eye contact with Evan again, causing him to step back and reevaluate.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. Um, my head hurts, kind of like when I get a migraine, and my arms are sore but, uh, obviously I’m not...that surprised,” he said, ending his statement with a sigh. 

The doctor nodded, jotting some stuff down on her clipboard. “I can get you something for the headache, and it should help the arms too,” she said. “I’m Dr. Lee, by the way. I’m just going to check your vitals- your heart, blood pressure, all that fun stuff, and then you have a couple things to fill out for your therapy appointment tomorrow.”

Connor just nodded along, feeling irritated but smart enough now not to say anything. Back in high school he would have, and did, actually. 

Dr. Lee went through her routine, having Evan sit at the opposite side of the room to make things easier. Luckily for Connor, she didn’t try to make conversation. He didn’t think he could handle that right now with anyone except maybe Evan.

When she was done, she handed Connor a separate clipboard with the forms he needed to fill out on them before leaving the room to get the medicine for the pain.

Connor just looked at the paper on top for a solid sixty seconds before Evan came over and took the clipboard out of his hands, sitting almost directly across from him on the hospital bed. “We’ll do this together, okay?” He said, clicking the pen.

“One to ten, how good has the past two weeks been?”

“Two and a half?”

“No halves. Closer to three?”

“Not really.”

Evan filled in the bubble containing the number two, mentally kicking himself for not being able to realize that Connor had been slipping for longer than he realized. He took a deep breath and kept going, one question at a time until he got to one that he didn’t know if he wanted to hear the answer to.

“How many days have you actively had suicidal thoughts?” He read aloud, keeping his eyes on the paper. 

Connor had become a little more comfortable as the questions went on, finding it easier as they went. He tensed a little though when Evan read that one.

“You know it’s not your fault,” Connor said softly. “I didn’t tell you something was wrong. I didn’t want you to know.” 

“Answer the question, please,” Evan said, eyes still fixated on the words on the paper.

“Every day.”

“You promised you would tell me.”

“I didn’t want to hurt you. Or make you worry. You don’t deserve that,” Connor tried to explain.

Evan looked up then, and he had tears in his eyes. “So you think I deserve seeing you dead on our bathroom floor instead?” He asked, the desperation clear in his voice. “Because that’s what almost happened because you didn’t tell me, and you didn’t get help before it was almost too late. You promised me.”

Connor just looked down, picking at the skin around his fingernails. “I’m sorry.”

“I- no, it’s…” Evan bit his tongue. “Let’s just get this done, okay?”

Connor shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. They’re probably going to put me in a psych ward anyways.”

“No, they’re not. You’re not crazy, Connor.” 

“So you’d call this mentally well? Interesting.”

“Connor, stop it. You’re not crazy. Things aren’t right in your head right now but you’re not going insane,” Evan said, and he could tell just by Connor’s mannerisms that he was scared about being locked away somewhere. “You’ll get to go home, but you need to do what the doctors and Dr. Martin too.”

“Sure. Except I can’t exactly convince them I won’t have a breakdown and try it again,” Connor said. 

“No, maybe not, but you can tell them that you didn’t have the plan to do it like you did the last time,” Evan said. “When you called me, you said you didn’t mean to do it, you told me that.”

“But I still did. And they’re not going to know that I didn’t mean it,” Connor pointed out. “I mean, god when I was in here in high school I said that. Which, it was an obvious lie. They didn’t believe me then, so why believe me now?”

“You never know. They might believe you since you’re being honest this time around. They deal with hundreds of people, it can’t be hard to tell when someone’s lying,” Evan said, trying to reassure his lover, but he could see it wasn’t working very well by the way Connor kept fidgeting.

“Let’s just get this over with and then you can rest some more, okay?” Evan asked. “There are only a few questions left.”

Connor nodded, answering the questions when asked. The doctor came in soon after that with the pain medications. “These are going to make you drowsy, but you can use the rest for the night,” she said. “Dr. Martin will be in tomorrow at eleven for your appointment.”

They spoke a bit more about how Connor was doing, and the forms were taken from him to be entered into the system, and Connor took the meds.

“You should go home for the night,” Connor said to Evan, who was still gripping his hand tightly. “You need rest too. And you’re going back to work on Monday..”

“I’ll stay until your appointment tomorrow, then I’ll go home and nap for a bit. I don’t want to leave you.” Evan said firmly.

“I’m going to be passed out anyways. It doesn’t make any diff-“

“No, Connor. I’m not leaving.”

Connor didn’t argue with that anymore. The meds were beginning to drag him back under as he leaned back. 

“Then you need to get something to eat,” he murmured.

“I can do that,” Evan promised. “Get some sleep, okay?”

Connor just nodded as his eyes closed, and he fell into a dreamless sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Thank you for reading! Updates should be once a week, but might be infrequent! Comment your thoughts!!


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